Warriors: Solemn Wishes (Warrior Cats Fan Story)

Chapter 13

"Acorntail! ThunderClan on your left!"

Acorntail dodged to the side as the ThunderClan cat dove at her. Their paws instead hit the hard earth, and they skidded a ways away, but quickly turned back to hiss at her. Acorntail did not have the time to pay attention to him, though, for she had to launch herself at another warrior in the next second.

Normally she could detect such moves like a pounce on her own, but she was preoccupied with two other warriors at the moment. Her entire patrol was outnumbered, two to one. It felt like, for every scratch they dealt to ThunderClan, they dealt back five. Acorntail herself was relatively unscathed due to her fighting technique involving a lot of dodging, but her comrades were horribly marked up.

Even now, as she jumped out of the way of the ThunderClan attacker, another one swooped in and scored a long clawmark on her shoulder and over her back. It likely would have been fatal if she had not seen it coming half a second early, and moved somewhat out of the way so the slash was shallower. Still, though, they left a huge aching wound on her back that she knew would impact her battle moves. And it was dead clear that they were aiming to kill her. They wouldn't be able to get away with it if a WindClan cat ended up dead, but it was far too easy to rule Acorntail's death an accident due to her size and species.

So she continued fighting, as long and as hard as possible. The patrol could not spare a single cat to run back to camp and notify backup; they just had to stay and pray it ended well, or that backup found them first.

The fighting went by too fast to give Acorntail room to doubt herself. Every one of her moves had no time to be pre-thought, and when she executed them, she had to have no hesitation with them. Dodging a claw, reeling back from a set of teeth, leaping between legs, jumping off one cat to land on another; the dance could not be interrupted, lest death claim her. She felt a claw swipe across her flank and knew it left an injury, but could not be compelled to let it interrupt her flow; she kept going, and felt some teeth clamp down just behind her tail. If she had stopped, those would have hit her upper body and crunched her chest.

How does one describe the feeling of battle? The rush, the fangs, and especially in Acorntail's experience, the feeling of being a single well-aimed strike away from death? It was a hurricane, especially for the severely outnumbered WindClan patrol, who felt like they were surrounded in a maelstrom of chaotic demons, who fought not just their enemies, but also each other, in a bid to be the first to reap the moor-runners' souls. Meanwhile for the ThunderClan patrol, they felt little pressure; a few even took breaks at times, standing away from the battle and licking their wounds and resting a bit, before jumping back in all refreshed.

Acorntail felt her tail being bitten down on, and swore a profanity under her breath as she was brought to a halt, dragged backwards, and thrown up to the sky. She balled herself up, hoping to protect herself from any major bone-breaks by condensing her body. And as she began falling back down, she saw a ThunderClan cat below her waiting for her to come back in reach of their claws and teeth. She scrunched up her eyes and prepared for the worst.

At least, until a thundering scream echoed across the battlefield.

Acorntail reopened her eyes, and saw that the ThunderClan cat below her was tackled and rolled a ways away, freeing the ground under her so she could land safely. She hit the ground hard, driving the air out of her lungs, and unrolled herself, gasping for breath. While she tried to re-stabilize her breathing, she looked around and saw that the tide of the battle had turned on its head. The ThunderClan cats had been caught by surprise by an avalanche of new WindClan warriors, and it even looked like some unfamiliar RiverClan cats had joined the fray. Their sleek pelts were indicative of their heritage.